Though the cover is worn,
And the pages are torn,
And though places bear traces of tears,
Yet more precious than gold
Is the Book worn and old,
That can shatter and scatter my fears,
When I prayerfully look
In the precious old Book,
As my eyes scan the pages I see
Many tokens of love
From the Father above,
Who is nearest and dearest to me.
This old Book is my guide,
‘Tis a friend by my side,
It will lighten and brighten my way;
And each promise I find
Soothes and gladdens my mind
As I read it and heed it today.